


Wasting My Young Years

by 796116311389



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27030943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/796116311389/pseuds/796116311389
Summary: John purses his lips. "What would be the point Sherlock? We're old. We've wasted all of our young years."
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 81
Collections: Chelle's Fic Recommendations





	Wasting My Young Years

John freezes. 

He was just about to pour the hot water into their teacups and now his arm hovers in the air, poised to pour. 

His mind is racing and hysterically it pulls up an old science show he watched once. _"Potential energy. The energy of an object due to its position, stresses within itself, etc."_ He doesn't know if he thinks it for himself or the held tea kettle. 

Calmly, he sets the kettle down, places both of his hands on the counter and takes a deep breath which he lets out shakily. 

Without turning around, he whispers into the thick tension that now sits between him and Sherlock, who sits behind him at the kitchen table, "What did you say?"

"I said, 'I love you.'" 

John lets out a short, quiet laugh. "Of course you do." He turns and faces Sherlock. He's mad at the man before him, though he can't quite tell for what in the chaos of emotions running through him. He can feel his adrenaline spiking. "Why?"

Sherlock blinks at him and makes a small frown with his mouth, confusion clearly painting his features, "Why do I love you? Because..." Sherlock's eyes look around the room like he'll find the answer written on the walls. He does that a moment and then locks eyes on John again, "Because I do. Because of everything you...are. To me."

John narrows his eyes, clenches and unclenches his jaw and then lets out a sigh, "I meant why now, Sherlock. Why after all these years would you suddenly decide to. To." 

He can't even say the words. He feels like his heart is falling and by the end of this conversation it will hit the ground and shatter. 

Unbidden his mind brings up a memory of a pale face with a dark halo of curls and an even greater halo of blood like a morbid saint. 

He closes his eyes and banishes the thought, _No._

He opens his eyes as he hears Sherlock's chair scrape back on the floor, Sherlock is now standing opposite of him beyond the table. He starts to step towards John, but John can't have him near him right now. He raises a hand, "Don't."

Sherlock raises both of his hands placatingly, "I didn't just decide to. I've loved you a long time. From the beginning even maybe, though it's...more. Difficult. To parse those emotions. But I have loved you and do love you." Sherlock frowns at the lack of anything John is showing on his face. He continues in a small voice, "And I just thought you should know."

"No. You can't do this to me. You thought I should _know_? Why? What do we gain from this?" John takes a deep breath amd wills the tears in his eyes away. "No. Do you know? Do you _know_ what loving you did to me? Do you _know_ how it _broke me_?"

John watches as Sherlock swallows and looks to John with a lost, distressed look. 

"I'm sorry, John. I didn't know. I don't know."

They stare at each other for an interminable amount of time. John gets himself under control. Always under control, he is. He feels his anger slip away, replaced by a hollowness in his very core. He turns his back on Sherlock and breathes in beats of three. Then-

"I didn't expect to gain anything from telling you John. Though, I did hope, fervently, that you might feel the same."

John doesn't face Sherlock, staring unseeingly at the counter before him, but he tilts his head in acknowledgement that he's heard what Sherlock has said. 

"I had hoped that maybe you would want to try."

John does turn around at that. "Try what, Sherlock?" He no longer sounds angry to his ears, just tired. 

"Us. In a relationship."

"We are in a relationship."

"A romantic relationship." 

John purses his lips. "What would be the point Sherlock? We're old. We've wasted all of our young years."

Sherlock looks at the floor, silently thinking. Then he looks up at John.

"It's true we're older now. Older then when we first met for sure and only made older by all that we've been through. However, I don't think we're too old for this. Quite the contrary, I feel young in my love for you.

"And I don't think we've wasted all of our young years. I think they were spent exactly the way they needed to be to bring us here."

John listens and contemplates Sherlock's words, stated so simply and plainly as they were. John hears the genuine reflection in his tone. 

"You really love me?"

"With all my heart John, whether you do or not, for the rest of my life unwavering."

"You really want to try a romantic relationship with me?"

"If you're willing."

"I'm willing. I'm just...," John gestures vaguely with his hands, "scared, I guess."

"That's ok. I'm scared too, to be honest. But I'm willing to be scared and make mistakes and be wrong, if it's with you. For you." Sherlock gives John a small smile.

John takes a deep breath and realizes that his heart has fallen into Sherlock's waiting grasp.

He steps forward until he's right in front of Sherlock. He looks up into Sherlock's every color eyes, "Ok. Let's try."


End file.
